a blog about perfume

Perfume is the Rodney Dangerfield of the Art World

No matter what our thought bubbles read, most of us know better than to stand in front of a painting by Jackson Pollock and say aloud, "I don't know what the big deal is. So some guy splatters paint on canvas. That's art?" Even if our attention wanders during the second half of a symphony concert, we still suspect the music has merit. Maybe we're not accustomed to a couple of hours of Mahler, but we give it a fair try. Most of us would jump at the chance to try a sip of a Premier Cru Bordeaux, even if we weren't 100% sure we could distinguish it from a supermarket Cab-Merlot blend. We assume we don't know everything about every kind of art. We want to develop our senses.

On the other hand, many people who wouldn't miss a Whitney Biennial will flatly say, "I don't like perfume," and it never even occurs to them they've shut out a whole realm of art. They're slamming an entire sense. Perfume is the Rodney Dangerfield of the art world.

Perfume may have trouble gaining respect in some quarters because it's poorly worn. If someone has a hideous sense of style, all you have to do is turn your head and the greasy mullet or (don't even get me started on this) crocs are gone. But perfume is like music. If it's too loud and not to your taste, it's hard to shut out. At least a radio comes with volume control. If you're in a warm conference room with someone doused in Calvin Klein Obsession, you're screwed.

Also, people expect perfume to be easy. They know a raw milk Morbier has a more difficult but also more rewarding flavor than Cheez Whiz, but they don't apply the same principle to, say, Christian Dior Miss Dior (surely the Morbier of the perfume world). No one is born loving Miss Dior. A lot of people are born loving Aquolina Pink Sugar. The problem is while people will refine their visual appreciation by spending thousands of dollars on museum memberships and devouring curators' talks on tape, they think they should "get" perfume right away. So, lines like Jo Malone featuring simple, easy to get notes, thrive. Miss Dior languishes.

Still, I'm hopeful. The past five years alone have seen a groundswell on interest in scent. Perfume blogs might be a tiny slice of the internet, but there are ten times more perfume blogs now than there were when I started writing for Now Smell This. The New York Times has a perfume critic. Perfumes: the Guide did well enough to warrant a second edition, Perfumes: the A - Z Guide. Some perfume houses even promote the names of their noses — or at least don't actively hide them — and now we can identify the distinctive styles of Jean Claude Elléna, Bernard Duchaufour, Sophia Grojsman, and more.

I look forward to the day when saying "perfume stinks" is seen as a sign of ignorance. Maybe, instead, that person will lean toward a friend discreetly wearing scent and say, "Your perfume is — interesting. Tell me about it." Until then, Miss Dior, Rodney, and I are keeping good company.

Some people just never give perfume a chance. My mum claims she’s allergic to perfume, yet for 24 years I lived with her and wore perfume for at least half of that time. Her claim of being allergic came from the fact that she never actually has worn perfume herself and suffered through her own mother’s fragrances like Navy & Opium masking cigarette smoke, which nothing ill toward those former fragrances, simply anything used to mask cigarette smoke becomes a rancid disaster.

She never quite ‘got’ the idea of perfume. When my younger sister began wearing some bargain brand vanilla fragrance — what was IMO an improvement over the Clinique Happy she had been dousing herself with — my mum loved it because she said it smelled like chocolate — somehow, despite being vanilla — yet she never appreciate any of the fragrances I wore. On the rare occasion she did buy a fragrance for me it was often always something of the fresh green tea variety. She’s improving though, as she bought a bottle of Chanel Mademoiselle for me for Christmas this year and described it as smelling ‘pretty’.

Over the holidays a close friend of mine & I were going through her perfume collection and came across an archaic bottle of Aquolina Pink Sugar. Being several years younger than myself, she said she hadn’t worn the perfume since she was fifteen. After smelling it, I can understand why. It’s like cotton candy. Not an unpleasant scent by any means, but something that I can definitely see someone just getting into perfumes loving. It would be a dangerous scent for me as I’m already associating it with sugar cookies and would find myself craving them all day if someone near me was wearing it.

So funny about the Pink Sugar. My one perfume friend in town who is as obsessed as me and has an amazing collection of beautiful fragrances wears it occasionally and it completely transforms on her skin. I never recognize it and always compliment her on it and ask if it is something new. Go figure. It is a sour caramel nightmare on me.
I think people interpret vanilla as chocolate because most of the chocolate consumed here has a good dose of vanilla and milk in it. Whether it is in bars or baked goods or ice cream it is still diluted quite a bit and many Americans have no appreciation for darker chocolates including the mildest of all, Hershey’s “Special Dark.” I said most. I’m sure many of us on this list have Scharfenberger habits. Like artesanal cheeses, dark chocolates take a little more effort to learn to love.

This is one of the reasons I find perfume to be such an art form because it really does depend on the person. There are some perfumes that I absolutely adore that friends of mine cannot wear & vice versa. I may have to spritz on some Pink Sugar one of these days and see what happens.

And agreed. So many people do not appreciate dark chocolate because of its bitter quality. My dad is actually the one who turned me onto dark chocolate when I was a child as he refuses to eat milk chocolate because not only is it unhealthy in comparison, the flavour of ‘real’ chocolate is lost. Best thing ever to me is dark chocolate with chili powder. The bit of spicy kick is such a beautiful compliment.

Oh, I love cayenne with chocolate! Such a beautiful compliment of smooth and spicy, bitter yet sweet. Mmmm. Straight dark chocolate is good for you just like your dad said. It is relatively low in calories and does not cause the dental caries that other sweets do.

I’m so proud that my kids now prefer dark chocolate! They still wouldn’t actually turn the milk chocolate down unless their alternative was the good stuff, but progress is being made.

Filomenasays:

18 January 2010 at 8:23 pm

I have loved dark chocolate since I was a child–before anyone really knew that it had nutritional value. I also have always preferred bitter over sweet in such things as after dinner digestivos. Glad to hear that I am not the odd ball.

Angelasays:

18 January 2010 at 4:47 pm

Bitter is something some people have a hard time appreciating. Chocolate, dandelion greens, coffee….all so delicious.

I know a few people, too, who claim to be allergic to fragrance, but I think they’ve just had a bad reaction standing next to someone soaked in something particularly loud. All of these people can wander into a Marriott or a Hilton, where fragrance is pumped through the air, without a hitch.

Like you, I don’t have anything against Pink Sugar, but it’s boring. (And, yes, it does make me hungry.)

Admittedly, there are some perfumes that people wear that I cannot stand, but that’s simply because they wear too much of it or it turns sour on their skin. The only ‘allergy’ I can really understand her suffering from would be the headache induced by too many fragrances at once like walking into a Yankee Candle store or lingering too long in the fragrance dept. at Sephora. Even that makes me feel a bit ill.

Pink Sugar just kind of seems like something you’d purchase at Body & Bodyworks or Victoria’s Secret as a body spray. Cutesy, something to be paired with pink feather mules after a bubble bath but not something to be worn out unless you’re 12.

The headache, nausea, etc, are often the first symptoms of sensitivity to chemicals. With many people it stays at just that, but with others it fully develops into a syndrome with dozens of symptoms that make life very difficult even after one’s isolated oneself from most harmful substances. It’s almost impossible to be rid of small amounts of chemicals that affect us, they’re all over. Modern life. Most fragrances today are derived from petroleum. It’s been so for the past fifty or sixty years. And fragrance is everywhere.

“I’d sure hate to be allergic to perfume when the world is awash in scent–everything from cleaning products to buses to malls and hotels seems to be scented these days.”

Yes, you’d sure hate it I TELL YOU. You’d even have to avoid going to places where there is any kind of human activity, or go wearing a respirator with carbon activated filters.
If you don’t know about something, don’t post about it. Ignorance is bad enough, but ignorance with arrogance, well…
Here. Just so you educate yourself a little:

Sensitization is a true allergic reaction to one chemical or irritant and is caused by involvement within the body of mast cells and IgE antibodies. Once sensitized to a particular irritant, a subsequent exposure to even a tiny amount of the same irritant ( even parts per million – ppm – or parts per billion – ppb) can cause an extreme allergic reaction.

Note: one ppm = 0.0001 percent.

These very low levels of irritant will often be totally undetectable to the average person and to them will be totally harmless.

Meanwhile, the main aspect of Multiple Chemical Sensitivity that is NOT fully understood – and that is regarded with such great scepticism – is that the MSC sufferer reacts similarly and in an allergic fashion to a whole raft of completely unrelated toxicants – typically “chemicals”, solvents, perfumes, VOCs, odours, smoke, house dust mites, pollen, etc.

This is so timely! My boss is obsessed with all things French, is studying the language, wants to travel there with her husband when he retires, goes on knitting trips to France, etc. and has expressed great sadness over the fact that she can’t enjoy fine French wines, etc. Over the last several months I have systematically exposed her to some of the very best French perfumerie has to offer from acclaimes noses new and old and the nicest thing she has ever said about anything is “it’s not my favourite.” I don’t know what her favourite could possibly be because she has never said anything positive about anything ever. Except Poison which she claims to have worn in college. One time I took in a sampler of extraits of Jicky, Apres L’Ondee (yes, vintage extrait), L’Heure Bleue, Mitsouko, Shalimar, and Vol de Nuit along with a big history of French perfumes hoping to pique her interest. Jicky provoked a horrific reaction and she claimed not to be able to smell Apres’ L’Ondee. I’ve tried to explain to her how perfumes contain all the complexities of fine wines and that it is fine (French) art that you can wear and enjoy everyday, and she just looks at me like I have two heads. My never ending quest for samples amuses her, but she just doesn’t get it. The only thing she has ever expressed an interest in was a card from the bottom of my purse that I had sprayed with Bvulgari Omnia a few days before, so I bought a bottle today. We’ll see if she notices. Sigh
And I have to be really careful with what I wear to work because if she can smell she invariably says it is too strong or worse. And I NEVER apply more that one spritz. I’ve been taking note of what she “likes” that is, what she says nothing about, and only wear that to the store. And apparently she is anosmic to Shalimar because I can spray on four different versions of it and then douse myself with vintage extrait and she has never noticed it. A scarf that I wore when I was wearing Fracas two weeks ago? I had to take it outside and put it in my car.
Perfume IS art!

I blessedly work in an office that’s mainly dominated by men. Better yet, men who enjoy my perfume. I’ll never understand the need for female supervisors to be so catty about perfume. I’ll admit some fragrances might not be as office friendly as others, but I couldn’t imagine limiting myself to one spray & still having someone complain about it. It’s fabulous that you can get away with Shalimar, though.

I did invite comments one time when I tried something new on that had so much patchouli it just smelled like a head shop. I said something about it being too much and she agreed with me. I’ve learned never to test drive something at work until I’ve worn it many times and I try to apply as early as possible to give the top notes time to settle down. I do work very closely with people as a knitting instructor, side by side, sometimes literally hands on hands, so I do want to be careful and asked her to let me know if something was a little too strong because sometimes it is hard to judge on yourself. Little did I know the torrent of comments I was asking for which add up to insults over time. Honestly, “too strong” means she doesn’t like it, and that applies to just about everything. Now she freely criticizes almost everything I wear and it is a little hurtful to go in with my latest (thoroughly tested) love and essentially be told to wash it off.

I’m always wary of what perfumes I wear when visiting my parents, especially if it’s a new perfume. I had just acquired a bottle of Narcisse Noir the day I had a scheduled flight back home and couldn’t wait to spray it on. Opted out for Shalimar which had mellowed by the time I was home and then sat around desperately wanting to spray on Narcisse Noir but not knowing what the response would be. I’ve given up on asking anyone’s opinion outside of my fiances and he seems to like everything I try so long as it’s dried and had time to settle.

I find that people who don’t appreciate perfumes or don’t appreciate a certain perfume will look for any opportunity to insult the wearer. If something’s too strong I’d appreciate being told, but usually these comments come with the tagged on comment of, ‘Smells like Lysol’ and such.

I get comments couched with the phrase “Don’t take this the wrong way, but….” The speaker knows they are about to insult somebody when they say that and then make it worse by putting the recipient on the defensive before it is even said.

Angelasays:

18 January 2010 at 3:42 pm

It’s hard. Not a lot of people “get” perfume. Narcisse Noir is darkly beautiful, but a challenge for the inexperienced nose, I guess. (But you can wear it and visit me any time!)

Angelasays:

18 January 2010 at 3:43 pm

Julia, I detest the “don’t take this the wrong way but” statements. If a person has to preface it that way, chances are it shouldn’t be said.

J, any sentence that begins with ‘Don’t take this the wrong way’ or ‘No offense’ is always leading into an insult. They’re some of the few phrases that make me see red before the insult has even been uttered.

A, indeed. I’m pretty sure my mum would not ‘get’ Narcisse Noir at all. She’d probably begin claiming that it was irritating her eyes — again, 24 years, half of which wearing perfume, mum with no known allergies aside from in bloom daisies. Us perfumistas must stick together.

Oh, I just discovered Narcisse Noir! I think it’s the beginning of a long love affair. Funny, though, I don’t find it dark at all. For me, it’s golden yellow sunshine, concentrated in a bottle. Rich, yes, but not dark at all.

Angelasays:

18 January 2010 at 6:43 pm

I think the parfum is a lot darker than the EdT. Are you trying the EdT with lots of narcisse?

My Narcisse Noir is the parfum — it’s a little round bottle with a black flower of a cap. Next time I wear it, I’ll try to understand the “dark” aspect of which you speak!

lakensays:

18 January 2010 at 9:55 pm

Julia, someone I see a lot sometimes says, “don’t get mad, but……” GRRR! It makes me instantly mad every time! I usually don’t show my annoyance that much though.

bergeresays:

19 January 2010 at 10:55 am

Not everyone who asks “What perfume are you wearing?” necessarily likes the perfume, either. I had an officemate who would ask that, so I would tell her, and she would respond, “Huh. Very interesting!” The tone and the smile made it abundantly clear that “interesting” was a long way from “appealing”. I think about her every time I read reviews on MUA. Some reviewers write that when the wear the perfume in question, they always have a lot of people ask what they are wearing. My guess is that at least some of the time, these folks are asking not because they like it, but because they can’t stand it and want to be sure to avoid it!

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 11:18 am

It’s true–sometimes when people notice your fragrance, it’s NOT a compliment. Another comment I don’t like much goes along the lines of “I like your shirt. Is that new?”

Angelasays:

18 January 2010 at 4:50 pm

I bet oak moss blends well with wool. Maybe a subtle old chypre would do the trick…

This is my third reading of this thread and I just realized you were referring to me about a chypre going well with wool. Little slow on the uptake. I do love the smell of sheep and wool. It is wonderful to inhale a new bag of wool yarn and breathe in the earthiness of the fiber and the sharp, tangy bite of vinegar used to set the dyes. Then the fondling begins. I’m really lucky to work in the tactile and visual environment that I do and I do it because I love it. I get to be with yarn all the time and I love teaching people how to use and enjoy it. I’ve found that many of my fiber friends favour deep, earthy scents like Tabac Aurea, and one of my students ordered a full bottle of Femme Jolie after smelling it on me. Now if only she could grasp increasing and decreasing….

Angelasays:

20 January 2010 at 12:15 am

That does sound like a wonderful way to spend days! I’m a knitter, too–although only capable of basic sweaters requiring nothing harder than short rows–and I love touching yarn.

Juliasays:

20 January 2010 at 3:32 pm

Awesome. Send me your yarn wish list and I will see what I can do. If you can do sweaters and short rows, you can do anything.

I feel so sorry for your boss! She must not be able to smell very well. Hopefully nature made up for it by giving her some other sort of edge in the senses: a good ear for music or a sense of texture or something.

If I had staff who brought me all the fabulous samples you did, a promotion would be coming down the line pronto!

There is a lady who works for me, and any time I am wearing Coco, or Prada, or Coromandel, or Bal a Versailes, etc, she always comments on how good I smell. She clearly loves rich orientals. She has no idea what a fragrance freak I am, but I always offer to give her a little bit in a vial as she is a very traditional woman and the type who would never go and just buy a bottle for herself. I feel sorry for her as she always says “No” with such disappointment as her husband wouldn’t like it – he clearly does not like heavy orientals. So I always hope some day she ask me to give her a squirt that she can just wear at work if she wants to.

You are so nice! Of course, I’ve already decided her husband doesn’t know what he likes in fragrance, and that he has some old, stuck ideas in his head based on a long ago experience. If she wore a drop of something between her breasts, where mostly she would enjoy it and it would radiate quietly, he probably wouldn’t turn his nose up at it.

Well obviously, your boss is NOT obsessed with everything French, because as I remember it on my trip to Paris, the scent of perfume was everywhere–I have had the same experience in Florence and Rome, Italy.

I think those notes comprise many of our favourite fragrances! Think of how many tar, tire, rubber, smoke, garage, coffee fragrances there are out there. I think the most obvious example of “Coffee house in Paris” is Field Notes From Paris. I like perfumes that are olfactory tricks designed to evoke a place or experience, but I don’t always find them wearable. We appreciate the balancing effect the addition of the bitter, dark, animalic or otherwise challenging notes has on a fragrance because it creates depth and movement. This is where the art comes in. Unfortunately, in art many people only appreciate how well it will go with their couch and for fragrances that translates into scents that are unremarkable and also loud. I enjoy how many people here have expressed taste preferences for dark chocolate, coffee, bitter greens, etc. I love all of those. I also love really strong pungent flavours like chili paste, fish paste and fish sauces, mango and lime pickles, salt and oil cured olives, etc. When I was pregnant I doused everything with fish sauce and chili paste, but I really didn’t have a taste for sweets.

Now I’m getting a huge hankering for ravioli with garlic anchovy cream sauce. In fact, that just might be dinner.

Juliasays:

19 January 2010 at 11:48 pm

And then you are sending me the recipe.

Angelasays:

20 January 2010 at 12:16 am

I can do that!

zarasays:

19 January 2010 at 1:20 pm

I would love it, if my co-workers would wear perfume to work in reasonable amounts you could actually smell and appreciate, instead, they seem to go perfumeless or wear so tiny amounts that I cannot possibly detect it, which I think is a shame, as I appreciate smells very much. Also, I think you can wear almost anything provided you master the art of not applying too much (think of such notorious example as opium, which should be dabbed instead of sprayed). I love perfume and appreciate it as a form of art, which should not be overlooked and suppressed, but instead create a certain mood.

I missed the part about the Crocs. Does this mean that you don’t want the pair of high-heeled fur-lined ones I picked out for you at the mall?
I was thinking about famous noses just yesterday. Bertrand Douchafour and Calice Becker are like rock starts to me, but if they came to town I don’t think any of my friends would share my infectious enthusiasm.

Angela, I really enjoyed the article. I recently have become fixated on perfume since acquiring a bottle of Femme and coming across this site. It never occured to me before that there was a whole world of fragrance beyond the department stores, which explains why I always found most perfume flat and one dimentional. I just returned from a trip to Barney’s in NYC and it was such an amazing experience to smell everything and how it evolves on the skin. And so many perfumes recalled childhood memories, like my mom kissing me on my forehead before going out (Lipstick Rose). Perfume truly is an amazing art.

I think a world without scent would be very depressing. Scent triggers so many things in us and yet it is the most untapped and unappreciated of all the senses–of course I am not referring to the perfumistas(os). I’d rather have a new bottle of perfume than any thing else. And…IMHO Barney’s is the best of the big stores as far as fragrances go.

My husband, who has a sizable and valuable collection of LP’s, made a comment about how I might be spending too much money on perfume (I think I bought 9 full bottles in 2009). I let it slide at first, but I couldn’t let it go. After thinking it through, I reminded him that he had built a collection; every piece in his collection was carefully selected, and anything discovered to not meet muster was sold. Now I’m building a collection with the same passion and discretion. I think he’s beginning to understand–which is positive, since I’m lemming Amouage : )

We have a sizeable collection of vinyl, and records are expensive and so is good equipment to play it on (factor the cost of the turntable, tone arm, and cartridge into the price of the vinyl). A bottle of Amouage pales in comparison to replacing a tone arm, and you can always wear the perfume. If something goes wrong with the stereo then the vinyl collection is rendered mute.
I’m really good at justifying expensive purchases.

Thank you, I am a professional. I routinely help people realize that it only makes sense to buy upwards of $200 of luxury yarn and tools. I’ve found that my knitting logic and yarn math apply equally to perfumes.

Yes, excellent course! My dearest has a drag-racing obsession that makes Amouge look like Jean Nate. We’re all entitled to our little obsessions. I had the pleasure of getting an artist friend of mine interested with a few samples…heh, heh…I’ll be working toward my diamond-encrusted enabler’s pin!

Do you want the natural cashmere or the organic Bison/Cormo blend? Because I will have to spin the latter into yarn before I can use it. Or, how about some hand-spun Mongolian Camel with the name of the spinner and the nomadic community in which she lives written on the label?
Speaking of animalic smells and how they add dimension and interest to fragrances, I love the smell of sheep and wool. My husband is much more disturbed when I ask that he stick his nose into a hank of yarn and really smell the animal behind it than when I stick my wrist under his nose and demand, “What about this one?”

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 6:15 pm

An even better reason to have knitted tiaras!

lakensays:

20 January 2010 at 1:39 am

I quite like the smell of unadulterated lanolin.

boojumsays:

18 January 2010 at 6:04 pm

This is why my husband and I get allowances. We each have a certain amount put into an individual account each paycheck, and it is spent however we choose, no questions asked, no comments made. It helps to keep the peace.

Besides being so into perfume, I am also into music and have so many CD’s–bought and downloaded…not to mention my iPods. So I can relate to your husband’s passion as well. As far as I’m concerned, good music, beautiful perfume, delicious food and wonderful wine is what it’s all about…not to mention great passion of the other kind, which some of us are lucky enough to have (unfortunately not me at the moment so the other things compensate for the lack thereof)!

Ain’t that the truth, Angela?! I’m an art & visual studies historian and let me tell you that although many colleagues wear fragrance, they find my interest in perfume strange (perhaps even a bit shallow, as it is “beauty” related in their eyes). And they are certainly befuddled by any mention of my fascination with it as an art form.

Sure, many of my colleagues like to smell good – hell, they even like to pick up fancy things from Paris when they are doing research abroad – but they don’t really “study” it the way I do and show no signs of opening their eyes to this extraordinary art form.

You know, I like Kinkade, but I don’t claim his work is high art. And Schiele scares me, but I think that’s because I’m picking up on his mental instability, expressed in his work.

It took several mini-lectures from my sister the art historian before I could get anything other than “simplistic mess” out of modern art. I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed now, but at least I’m able to attempt to identify themes. That takes a lot of the “ick” factor out. I think it does correspond to perfume, Angela. Amazing post.

I don’t know much about art, either. I have a few friends who are artists and some who teach art, and visiting a museum or gallery with them changes the whole experience for me.

Erinsays:

18 January 2010 at 4:22 pm

mj, it’s a good point that people often think of perfume as: a) beauty-related; and b) therefore shallow or frivolous. Hey, I know the study of it is not oncology or international aid development or something, but it’s funny that people take my fiction-reading as a sign I’m deep and intelligent, while the perfume habit gives them the opposite reaction. When friends and family members figure out the depth of my interest in it, I’ve had a common, interesting reaction which is “It’s so weird, because you were such a tomboy as a child. You were never the big flirt.” Apparently, perfume is a hussy hobby.

You are right! I too employ many of the analytical skills I have from studying art history many years ago. It is very much like studying art – I think of it as one of the outsider formats, “liquid art”. And I give away my age by saying that I am working (slowly) on research index cards for each fragrance to keep track of “my studies”, of fragrance, style, house, etc. But I think a lot of the stygma applied to fragrance as an art for is exacly because it is traditionally considered a beauty product – something gals only use to lure men, etc. In that way it is kind of shallow, and current marketing does little to change that perspective. But when you look at the history of fragrance and perfumery and the origins of raw essences, the market for them, etc, it is so similar to art! Even the current IFRA kurfuffle can be studied in context of art for good or bad – many artists suffered badly by handling toxic art pigments, etc. And the attempt to industrialize some paints came at a price – cheap paints and ruined canvases. And now we have industrialized essences – smell cheap and lifeless too.

I think you have touched on the core of the issue. Many people consider fragrances beauty products like cosmetics and then have no respect for them. Not me, though. I think the perfect red lipstick is a work of art and have spent the better part of my life seeking it.

From where I’m sitting I can touch a brownish red by Bobbi Brown, MAC Red, Medieval Red by Lipstick Queen, a chili red by Aveda, Revlon Red (plus Cherries in the Snow, but that is really pink), and I’m pretty sure I threw a red liner from Ulta in my knitting bag along with some gloss in case of emergency.

I bounce between MAC Russian Red, MAC Dubonnet, MAC Chili (more of an orange), Bobbi Brown Brick Red, Nars Fire Down Below, the dregs of some NARS Mongolian Red, and a really bright red MAC that I want to say is Inferno or something like that. I’d have to dig it out and see. My next red will be NARS Jungle Red, I think. As if I don’t already have enough red.

Jillsays:

18 January 2010 at 4:13 pm

Thanks for this, Angela. I am in a tricky position with my perfume-loving ways because I have a number of friends who are scent-sensitive and their stance is “I can’t stand perfume.” I always have a dilemma when I want to see one of the anti-scent people: do I wear something very, very subtle? Do I wear no scent at all? The hard part is I know their opinion of perfume comes from experiences of being knocked over by someone’s Obsession in an elevator in the ’80s or something, and I do empathize.

Then there are the friends and family who like perfume, but not the way I do, and think my favorites are weird-smelling and why would I want to wear THAT? (i.e. I smell like rotten peanuts when I wear Bois Farine. Gosh, I hope not!)

I would hate to send anyone to the hospital by wearing perfume, but I’m convinced 99% of the people who claim to be allergic to perfume are simply susceptible to getting headache-y when they’re confined with an overdose of loud scent. I bet none of them would even notice a dab of Vol de Nuit parfum behind the ear.

I had a coworker who had multiple chemical sensitivity, and when I asked her if my perfume bothered her, she said, “No, it’s fine. I’m not wearing it.” And I have to say, I’m allergic to everything under the sun, but not perfume. I agree that most people are not allergic. Some that I know (not saying this is everyone) are really just control freaks. They can come into the office reeking of cigarette smoke, but a teeny drop of Joy sends them into respiratory distress? I just don’t believe it.

I think a lot of it is wearing it yourself. Aldeyhdic florals and certain marine/ozone combinations have triggered migraines when I attempted to wear them, but I have never had a problem smelling them on someone else. Other people can wear all the No. 22 around me that they want and I can appreciate the fragrance with no ill effects.

Great article, Angela, and I completely agree that perfume is often under-appreciated, hence the trend of boring copycat frags that have been in abundance lately.

I was really quite the girly girl as a child, and my mother often bought me little bath products or the odd cologne spray as a treat. So even as a young lady, I had four or five frags at the very least I’d work with and enjoy. My love of perfume was a grand passion just waiting to happen once I started out on the quest for Angel. Once I smelled it and how very different it was from the sorts of frags I usually wore, I was hooked. I worked my way through the Macy’s counter, started reading fragrance reviews on MUA, started shopping the Bay back when one could still procure decants, and it’s been almost an obsession since then. I’m gradually moving from fragrance type to studying fragrance creators, who are quite definitely artists with their own style, so I’m able to decide whose work I wear/admire the most, though I think that’ll be a pretty long list.

My friends and hubby think it makes perfect sense given I’m blind, and I’ve gotten one of my friends to move beyond VS and BBW. Granted, she’s firmly in love with RL’s Glamorous, but she’s expressed interest in Divine and some of the classics I love like Narcisse Noir and Mitsouko.

I’ve been blessed by my remaining fully functional and extremely sensitive senses, I think. I adore music and love singing, I love cooking and sculpting, and I love perfume because I can appreciate it just as much as anyone else. I might not be able to appreciate every aspect of the packaging, but I don’t wear the packaging anyway. So I suppose I can credit my mother, who also bought me my first designer perfume, Givenchy’s Fleur d’Interdit, for my seventeenth birthday. I was so thrilled with the elegant box, the beautiful bottle and that lovely sweet floral that, along with Chanel No. 5 which I also wore, brings back memories of high school for me. She let me wear anything I’d sprayed on during mall wanderings as long as it wasn’t an Avon or Poison, and we almost always gift each other with bath and body products, which is always fun when I’m shopping for someone else because I get to introduce them to gems they may not have otherwise found given they aren’t nearly as into the fold as I am.

Marvelous story! Is it true that being blind sharpens other senses? Keep up the good work as an ambassador of scent. It sounds like you’ve made good inroads, already. Someone who is intrigued by Mitsouko and Narcisse Noir shows strong potential.

Thanks. And yes, I’ve been lucky to have the four remaining senses more than compensate for the one that’s not so great. My kids already learned they can’t pull one over on me in most cases as I can usually hear what they’re up to (turning the volume all the way down on the TV is *not* turning it off since I can still hear the high pitched buzz of the thing), and my sense of smell is a great tool for cooking and whipping up new bath/body product ideas. I not only like to make lemonade from lemons, but sometimes I need to spike it to give it that little kick that makes life worth living.

Your comments have made me smile. And I can just imagine the kids trying to get away with something like turning the TV all the way down instead of off. Just last night our 12 year old was trying to talk to a girl over his X-Box live with his head behind a pillow thinking we wouldn’t notice.

Fantastic article!!~Of course…… My mom was a “perfume hater”. If she wore anything it was Jean Nate or Chantilly. Which I never understood because Jean Nate and Chantilly were very distinctive. I had beautiful gardenias in full bloom at my wedding and it was all that she could do to wear one.
I’ve always loved scent and was an ‘ista just waiting to happen. Your article says it all so well. People really don’t understand~and really really can think that you’re shallow for the interest/obsession/collection/pick one. What’s interesting is that this phenomenon really has no economical boundries. The monied are in general no more “in the know” than the not so monied. Thank goodness for sites like this where we can unite and learn!!! Whew…….

Oh……and cultivation is everything. I’ve been aware of the wonderfulness of niche etc. for a year and a half and NOTHING smells the same anymore fragrance wise. (I’m happy for the most part to say) Just as you said~like so many art forms~it’s one that you can grow in………

I just pulled out of my cabinet this morning a perfume I haven’t worn in probably 6 months, and I love it so much more now! It’s amazing how taste continues to develop if it continues to be challenged.

Angela, thanks for this insightful post, and also to Julia for pointing out that perfume is a relatively economical art form to enjoy, as well. I love photographs and paintings, but merely good ones cost hundreds or thousands of dollars. A truly transcendent perfume can be had for less than $100, with few costing more than $200. Wearable art – hand-crafted clothing and jewelry – again costs hundreds or thousands of dollars, and how frequently can one wear the same piece?

In terms of appreciation, experience is key. Nonetheless, the more comments and reviews I read, the more I’ve been contemplating the impact of anosmias and hyperosmias. For example, although I find Timbuktu deeply interesting and worth having around to sniff, I’m pretty sure that I’m not smelling what LT describes. Also, Fracas simply doesn’t smell good to me, although I love everything else that Julia lists. I really believe a hypersensitivity to some note and/or anosmia to another is disturbing the balance.

I’m fascinated by print makers, or artists who do monoprints, because you never know exactly how each pull of the press will turn out. Perfume must be like that. Two people wearing the same perfume might present it so differently, depending not just on their bodies, but on their personalities. Very cool, if you think about it.

Good point, Angela! I wonder if some of the prejudice against perfume as an art form is related to this fact that it depends on the interaction with the wearer. “Must be worn by the right person to work,” as has been noted about some perfumes.

It’s true, sometimes a particular character seems to go best with particular perfumes. A prim perfume can be really effective on a flamboyant person, for example. I’m not so sure the opposite works as well, though.

I think perfume is probably more accessible and egalitarian than some of the other arts. You don’t have to buy the whole thing, and what you get is the real thing exactly as it is meant to be experienced.

I love this posting! Most of my friends are hyper sensitive to fragrance. Most of the perfumes i wear give them headaches. =(
I wish I can discuss scent like we discuss a movie, a painting, or a broadway show.

Sometimes I forget how fortunate I am to have been born into a family of women who love scent and wouldn’t dream of stepping across their threshold without it. My maternal grandfather was a railroad executive who traveled to Europe at least once a year. Well-trained fellow that he was, he always made a swing through Paris and brought home bottles of French perfume for what he fondly called his harem (wife, daughters, granddaughters). I was most definitely raised right to become a future perfumista!

I work in an office where I am one of only 2 women with 35 male co-workers. They notice if for some reason I DON’T have fragrance on! They also critique my wardrobe, but that’s another post. lol

I guess you could say I’m a political correctness washout, because I just love it when I come to work with a new scent and a new sweater and all my co-workers comment.

Thanks for yet another great post! Virtually everyone can see, yet no one assumes they can automatically understand complex visual art, and everyone hears, but only the “cultured” among us are considered ready to appreciate great opera. Because smell is tied so closely to the emotions, however, somehow people assume the logical brain isn’t involved at all, and that anyone can “get” perfume. Writing suffers from a similar problem: everyone writes, so they all assume that everyone can write *well* (or that proper writing doesn’t really matter).

Oh, and I’m with you on the Crocs — regulators should be banning them (and Uggs, while they’re at it) instead of oak moss!

You’re so right about writing–all the time people talk about how they just need to find the time to sit down and write their book. If only it were that easy.

I know there are lots of Croc fans out there, but I think the Croc is the thin edge of the wedge. Next thing you know, you’re wearing velour track suits everywhere and subsisting off Trader Joe’s frozen dinners.

Crocs have their use. You can fit them over Irish soft shoes and take them off right before you go onstage to protect your feet from mud, gravel, or concrete (the usual indoor subfloor, and hard on the joints). That doesn’t mean that I wear them on the street.

aimilionasays:

19 January 2010 at 1:24 pm

Crocs are also the ideal shoes for investigating the break that your dog finds in the city sewer line running through the back yard. It’s a pain to scrub off the dog’s chosen scent, but at least your shoes are easy to clean.

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 6:18 pm

O.K., I admit crocs are utilitarian. The sewer argument, especially, is a winner.

Juliasays:

20 January 2010 at 12:09 am

So true! People are surprised when I talk about fragrances that there is so much to know and that I have put so much time into “studying” scent.
And yeah, I’m going to sit down a write a novel in a little while. As soon as I finish this intarsia sweater that anybody could just whip up in an evening if they really wanted to.

I think there really is something to that. I’ve had this conversation before. There seems to have been a discipline about about style that started leaving the mainstream about 40 years ago. Perfume was challenging and beautiful. People actually took the trouble to learn to dance. Women dressed to leave the house. Men wore hats. Yes, it took effort, but the flip side of the effort was style and a refined ability to appreciate beauty. If you grow up smelling wonderful perfumes, tasting good wine, listening to music, you have such an aesthetic leg up.

I can definitely say I was not born with Pink Sugar on my mind! For my brains I was definitely born at the right time. For my style I am a few decades too late. I love tailored clothes and the structural underthings that go with them: good brassieres, slips, hose. And then hats. God, I love hats – and a man in a hat is the living end. You are right – things used to be different, more thoughful. It was important to present yourself in a particular way. And we forget how small all those closets back then were: less clothes, better clothes. For me now, I am either wearing a skirt, dress, etc, or jeans. There is not much in between for me. So I may be wearing modern clothes, but when I put on my fragrance, in my head at least, I can dress for way back when!

I’ve seen more men around town, lately, wearing hats. I think it’s coming back in a tiny way. I hope so, anyway.

AnnSsays:

19 January 2010 at 12:20 pm

I don’t know… when I lived in Portland and made the effort to go to the symphony and opera (mostly to have an excuse to get dressed up!) my hats got more attention. I have this one black one with big gorgeous black raven feathers on it…. but I digress. Now I live in the frigid boonies and my poor hats languish in the closet in their boxes with no occasions to come out for… I say hat & cocktails parties are called for! And it gets back to why fragrance is such an easy luxury and fasion statement – I can wear Mitsouko to work. I can’t wear my big feather hats to work. Everyone would think I am mad! Well, I am, but I don’t look it, lol.

I think the popularity of Mad Men is what is causing men to wear hats again. It is a good look for men, IMHO. I remember my dashing grandfather who worked for the FBI wore hats. He was a total G-man all the way down to the look. It had a real impression on me.

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 12:28 pm

I love the sound of your hats! Yes, it does take some courage to wear an extravagant hat. And you are right on about Mad Men–that must be why hats are gaining in popularity.

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 11:32 am

I’m a fan of dressing for an occasion, too. Why not? You have to get dressed, anyway. Make a little effort, cut back on clothes but wear those you love, and you’re doing something nice for everyone around you. I love lounging clothes, too: dressing gowns, ridiculous slippers, silk pajamas.

Oh, I love hats, too, and used to wear them often when younger…Ann, your hat collection sounds quite remarkable.

I think perfume can stand in for a lot of lost elegance — I wouldn’t possibly put the effort my grandmother did into the way she dressed every day, and I would look laughably out of place most of the time. But perfume is such an easy luxury. And it will go anywhere with me, accommodating and enhancing all the different hours, moods and places of my day. Can hardly bear to imagine life without these magical essences. They are an incredible art form. Just smelled EL Private Collection for the first time a couple of days ago — I was just astounded by it. Perfumes keep doing that to me, the way painting and music and novels do…

Oh, I have only sniffed the current version, philistine that I am. But I was amazed by the play of contrasts, the sharp greens, grass and hyacinth(?), like a chilly, rain-washed day in early spring, and then the powdery notes. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything quite like it. I love all chypres…if the perfume gods were so cruel as to restrict me to one scent family, that would be the one I’d choose.

Angelasays:

19 January 2010 at 10:57 pm

I see I wrote “is”, but I meant to write “isn’t Private Collection nice?”. You describe it perfectly! Like spring.

I think that perfume challenges the Puritan streak found in many Americans, including my mother.

– It’s a consumable, so you’re “wasting” money on something that will be gone.
– It’s seen as beauty-related, so you run into issues with “vanity” and frivolity.
– It’s about the senses, and too much pleasure is seen as suspect.
– It’s worn on the body, and there’s a lot of suspcion about the body.
– It’s seen as being about sex, and nothing’s more suspicious than that!
– It’s seen as trying to evoke a reaction in others, and that’s immodest and forward, especially since:
– It’s seen as being associated with women.

Perfume is a woman enjoying herself and expressing herself, often in a public way, or possibly (oh, nooo!) in a private way with a man. It’s an art that she participates in, not just one that’s under someone else’s control, that she passively, innocently perceives.

Now, many of those characteristics are true of other things, like makeup and clothes. But to my mother, wearing lipstick and dressing up have been recast as showing “respect” for the situation, so somehow that washes out the sins of “vanity” and enjoyment and self-expression. In fact, Mom will wear perfume, but she’ll generally only wear it on special occasions – I think that she’s, again, recasting it from enjoyment to “respect” for the occasion.

Wow, I sound cranky, don’t I? I’m not nearly as cranky as I sound. I’m just saying that for many audiences, there are a lot of unconscious barriers to perfume, before you can even get them to take their first serious sniff.

What a thoughtful comment! It could be a post all on its own. You make so many good points about why perfume never even makes it out of the starting box for a lot of people. At least our circle of hell will smell nice.

Ditto, thoughtful commentary. There are whole religions that ban makeup, jewellery, certain clothing, and probably perfume as well seeing it all as frivilous. I must admit I have sometimes struggled with make up, hair dying and even jewellry thinking that I’m being deceptive by using those. But after wearing no makeup and hair going grey I change my mind because “every one else is doing it” – its a constant dilemma. But the exception is perfume – I never give it up.

When I was just a budding perfumista, it always intrigued me where perfume books were placed in the bookstore. Were they under Art, Science, or Beauty? Putting them under Fashion seemed so odd to me at the time, but now it makes more sense, although I still think it isn’t quite the right place. Perfume is what one wears to be fully dressed and fragrance categories certainly go in and out of style!
It has occurred to me that there are reality shows that are competitions to find the best model, clothing designer, painter, hair dresser, etc. How about one to find the next great perfumer? The potential noses would be the competitors and the judges could be LT, TS, Chandler Burr et al. The weekly episodes would require the noses to not only choose notes and then put them together into a successful perfume, but to also design the bottle, packaging and the ad campaign. The winner would get his/her creation produced and put on the market. But I gave up on this idea because obviously, not being able to smell the creations, would not spellbind the audience enough. My point is that perfumery is a slippery art that is only tangible if there are noses to appreciate it. And those of us who read NST and write to it really do!

Oh, but can we talk about Miss Dior? I picked up a mini of vintage Miss Dior at at antique shop while I was on holidays. It is one of those 10ml bottles, about 2/3 full. Cost? Fifty cents. I call that ‘Angela’s luck’. My father and my son were so amused at my glow of delight, and shared it with me. It was such a nice occasion.

I do like contemporary MD, but the vintage is deeper and richer. The women who wore this in the 1950s were women of strength and purpose.

I feel like a woman of strength and purpose when I wear Liz Zorn’s Oud Lacquer or Ayala’s Espionage. Those are a couple fragrances that get great respect in the niche /indie natural world, but not sure where else. Hopefully their popularity will broaden!

Such a wonderful post, thank you! I definitely do believe people are not born with a deep appreciation of Miss Dior or Mitsouko. The sad thing is, perfume is often viewed as something far too frivolous to be taken seriuosly – in other words, something you can do without. That was definitely the case in my family – my mother never wore any kind of perfume, so I don’t really have any scent-related childhood memories. I don’t think that’s a bad thing per se, because now I can discover the world of perfume without any preconceived opinions or feelings about it. In fact, perfume has a lot to do with feelings – if it’s an art form (which it is, of course), it is by far the most intimate of them all. I think people who appreciate perfume as an art form are not only discovering a whole new universe – in a way they’re also discovering themselves.

By the way, my mother still has a hard time understanding my perfume hobby – she sees it as a waste of time and money. I must admit I sometimes give her perfume as a gift, but the only comment I ever got was the polite “Well, this smells nice”.

People who CLAIM to be allergic to perfume most likely are! Klytaemnestra does not understand that someone can develop the sensitivity over time. Although i can appreciate the discussion here, I hope it can be appreciated that for 3 out of 10 people, perfume is a health hazard; and for a smaller but growing number – perfume and other petro-chemically enhanced products, are life-threatening.

Oh my! 3 out of 10 people! I guess I count myself as one of the lucky ones. I’d sure hate to be allergic to perfume when the world is awash in scent–everything from cleaning products to buses to malls and hotels seems to be scented these days.

What a great post! Someone remarked on my perfume in a small group the other day, signing up for a workshop we all take, and one of the women (the Vegan) said “Perfume is OK, but don’t wear it to class.” I told her that I always wear it to class and she’s never minded it because I wear “the good stuff” so there’s no problem. The “bad” perfumes have ruined it for a lot of people I fear. As our “casual” daily attire has taken much of the joy out of street life too ; ) Chickenfreak makes wonderful points about all of the mixed up messages and motivations of both users and abusers, but I must say simply that I do everything possible to make everything in life richer more beautiful and more stimulating, and thank those who are doing the same for me! I love the idea of analagous artists from other disciplines and perfumes — great new blog idea, Angela, how about it?

Cheers to you! Great attitude. As for The Vegan, it would have been so tempting to say “Opinions are OK, but don’t shove them in my face”. Or, the ever popular “Jesus loves you”. That really shuts them up.

I’m all for making life more beautiful for the people around you. Beautiful, thought provoking, and funny. All those are good. You have a great blog idea, too! I don’t think I know enough to pull it off. It would make a good quiz, though.

This was a great article, and interesting discussion. I think Americans may be with perfume where they were with food when people like Julia Child showed us that cuisine is not tuna noodle casserole (well, it is at my house, sometimes anyway — but never mind!). We are on a collective cultural learning curve, perhaps.

Thanks! She is actually a pretty cool Vegan, who says about my fur-on cowhide grass green purse “that’s so cute, so sad, but so cute” : ) About your blog — it could be a kind of collective perfume analogy conversation, as your readers have great ideas to match yours, and it would spur on everyone to do a bit of research and post wonderfully, like they do here! Take it from someone with a pretty scanty blog, if you write it, they will come! And you have quite a readership already, Miss, way more than I do, you’re such a good writer, and Politically Incorrect to boot, we need more of that in the Blogosphere!

Aw c”mon — I already have enough blogs, one for my shoes, one for perfume, and a travel one (rarely used), you don’t have any yet! How about another friend/fan, step right up, it’s free, it’s fun, it’s educational!

You’re saying someone who says “I don’t like perfume” is shutting out a whole realm of art, but perhaps what they’re really doing is taking a stand against toxic chemicals … some of which are proven to cause cancer and reproductive problems, amongst a long list of other serious health difficulties. Saying that perfume is a problem only for those who are “allergic” is simply not true … Haven’t you ever read a list of the chemicals used in perfume? I get such a kick out of people who are quick to stand up against smokers and secondhand smoke, and see no problem with their airspace being invade by chemicals just as toxic in the name of … “art”, is it now? I hope you aren’t choosing to use these chemicals around your children!

It seems like you don’t even know the meaning of the term “toxic chemicals”. Next time do yourself a favour and at least google something you’re unfamiliar with before leaving completely nonsensical comments like this one.

All matter has a chemical composition. To avoid “chemicals” is baseless. All-natural is not non-toxic; stinging nettles and poison ivy come to mind. Toxicity is bio-individually based, e.g. peanut butter is highly dangerous to some & daily consumed by others. Of course, there are some very common chemicals that are toxic to a high number of people; ammonia comes to mind. I deeply sympathize with the people who have chemical sensitivities — it does make daily life a horror show of obstacles. We need to find a middle ground in recognizing the freedoms of the many and of the few. The issue here is that perfume is considered by some to be a superfluous & possibly dangerous luxury and by others to be a deeply meaningful artistic form of self-expression. So it is hard to find that middle ground.

I live in a place where you aren’t allowed to wear scented products in schools, hospitals, doctor’s offices, and many business places. There are signs up even at theatres and restaurants asking people to please refrain from wearing scent. Some of these places, but not all, will ask you to leave if you do show up wearing scent! I think the times are changing … it is no longer okay to smoke around other people or use chemicals that are damaging to people’s health!

Angela: I really enjoyed finally reading this piece and all the comments in full last night. Very thoughtful and so true. I am optimistic that people will be appreciating “olfactory art” more and more as time goes on.

Angela,
I agree with you on several points. First, you are lucky not to have adverse reactions to perfume, yes. And second, I agree that you would most certainly hate it if you became chemically injured, and perfume was no longer was enjoyable, but sickening (literally).
I used to be lucky, like you. Then I suffered several months of carbon monoxide poisoning, and it damaged my immune and central nervous system, causing multiple chemical sensitivity. One of the worst triggers for me is perfume.
You are also right that probably most people who refer to a “perfume allergy” do not in fact have an allergy. Usually an adverse reaction to perfume doesn’t cause an allergic reaction — that could be controlled with an antihistamine. Instead, the exposure causes a physiological response akin to being poisoned. Exposure to perfume causes me migraines, vomiting, trouble breathing, nausea, dizziness, cognitive impairment, and other debilitating symptoms. Some of the symptoms happen immediately upon exposure, and others occur as delayed reactions for days, weeks, or months after.
I could certainly never go into a Hilton or Marriott — not without being carried out on a stretcher. I would be made ill by just about every furnishing in the place and every fume coming off every person.
To go anywhere, such as my doctor’s office or the health food store, I must use oxygen and a filter mask.
Obviously since you blog about perfume — in a positive way — you and your readers will not “get” me, much as klytaemnestra feels many people do not “get” her. The difference between us is that you and she choose to expose yourself to the chemicals in perfume, and just as I had no choice in being chemically injured, I also don’t have the choice of breathing or not on the rare occasions I leave my home.
I ask you and your readers to please give some thought as to the effects your choices have on others. And the choices they might have on you, some day, if you end up being unlucky.
You can read more about MCS on a special page of my blog devoted to it: http://aftergadget.wordpress.com/about/about-sharons-disabilities/how-mcs-affects-sharon/
Peace.